


If I Said You Had a Beautiful Body...

by emmaliza



Category: Take That (Band)
Genre: Body Image, Body Worship, Come play, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Light Angst, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Praise Kink, Rimming, Role Reversal, Spouseless AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-08-08 08:48:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16426199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmaliza/pseuds/emmaliza
Summary: Gary jumps when he feels Howard's hands on his clothing. After a second's hesitation, he shakes his head, pushes Howard away. "No, no, wait," he says, his voice panicked, and Howard frowns in confusion. What's wrong? "Wait, Dougie, I can't... I can't." He sighs in defeat. "I'm sorry."Howard doesn't understand. Why would he? “Gaz?” he asks, as Gary thoroughly avoids his eye, clearly upset and embarrassed. This isn't like him. “Did I do something wrong?” he asks, just to be sure, and Gary's head finally snaps back up.“What? No, of course not, you're perfect, you're always perfect, I–” Gary stops, and bites his lip, cringing at his own words. Howard is even more confused. He's glad for the compliment, but he'd hardly describe himself as perfect. “Look at you,” Gary mumbles, staring into his lap again. “Still a bloody Greek god. You couldn't have put on a single fucking ounce in ten years, could you?”Oh.





	If I Said You Had a Beautiful Body...

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired mostly by Gary's new book, his unceasing body image issues, and his complete inability to shut up about how sexy Howard is.

It shouldn't be that much of a surprise that about as soon as they come offstage, make their way back to their hotel room, Howard finds himself being pulled into Gaz's hotel room, like he would have been over a decade ago, Gary grinning from ear to ear as he nips at Howard's bottom lip. Back in the day, they were all hooking up all over the place. Howard couldn't help but wonder if they would do it all again, or if they'd all gotten too old, and couldn't blame it all on youthful hormones anymore.

Apparently not. Just about the second they were past reception Gary buried both hands in Howard's hair and pulled him in for a thorough snog, his hands running up and down Howard's chest as he urged him back to his room. Howard didn't need to be asked twice. It all seems so natural, his tongue meeting Gary's playfully, like they haven't not done this for a decade at all. Maybe Jay and Mark are doing the exact same thing, wherever they've gotten to. Howard would go find them and ask if they want to join in, but well, he's sort of busy. Hopefully they won't feel too left out. Or they'll let him and Gaz make it up later.

He locks the door behind him as they finally make it into the room, and let's out a long, deep groan as Gary's hand finds his rapidly hardening prick, rubbing him through his jeans.

"You like that, Dougie?" Gary whispers in his ear, and Howard, through his pleasured noises, snorts. He's been much humbled over the past ten years, but that doesn't mean he can't be a smug bastard _sometimes_.

Howard reaches round and grabs Gary's arse firmly, squeezing tight enough to leave a red mark. "Yeah," he answers bluntly, drawing their crotches closer together. He grins at how Gary freezes up, a little shiver of need running through him, but when he looks up and meets Howard's eye again, something funny happens. Howard reckons he looks a little nervous.

Quickly, Gary lets go of his cock and starts tugging at his hand instead. "C'mon, bed."

Howard, disappointed by the loss of friction, obeys readily, watching as Gary sits on the edge of the bed and beckons him with a smile. That position keeps Howard from groping his arse anymore, but oh well. Howard plops himself down in Gaz's lap, earning a groan. He chuckles. Well, he's never exactly been small. He tilts Gary's head back with one hand, and kisses him again. Gary lets him in readily.

Gary's hands are on his torso again, feeling him through his shirt, but they're gentler, more hesitant this time. Howard doesn't think much of it. Instead, he simply circles his hips lewdly until his erection slides against Gary's through their trousers, and when Gary moans, Howard takes that as permission. He grinds against his friend hard and fast, leaving them panting into each other's mouths, Gary's body bucking up off the bed to try and press himself closer. After a few minutes of this, Howard can feel telltale sparks of pleasure rush up his spine, and he curses against Gary's lips. If they keep this up, he's going to come in his pants like a teenager. Which, given how Gary loves to make fun of how old he is, he can't let happen.

Howard breaks the kiss, leaves Gary's lips red and wet beneath him. He pulls back and thinks, while he's taking a break, it's a good idea to get some of their bloody clothes off. He pulls his t-shirt up over his head in one smooth movement.

Gary stares. He always does. Howard's not sure whether to feel shy or smug about it - both properly. Gary never did care to hide his either his envy or appreciation of Howard's body, and apparently that's not changed, his eyes wide and drinking in every curve of Howard's torso. Howard smiles in familiarity. He still remembers how back when they always shared rooms at the beginning, whenever he got changed for bed Gary would always pout at him, moan about how unfair it was he could eat whatever he bloody well liked and still look like Greek god. Eventually, Howard got in the habit of kissing him just to shut him up.

Howard's never been quite sure how to feel about his status as 'the body of the band', but right now, in a hotel room with Gary, warm and intimate, he doesn't mind. After all, Gary loves a lot of things about him. He just happens to _also_ love his body.

He's so caught up in the moment, he doesn't notice some things. He doesn't sort the look on Gary's face right – the envy and appreciation is still there, yes, but also something new. A dawning sense of horror. He doesn't notice Gary's cheeks turning white. He doesn't notice Gary's body shying away from him. Really, all Howard thinks is that he doesn't mind Gary taking a good look, but they were in the middle of something. He reaches for Gaz's top button brazenly. "C'mon, your turn."

Gary jumps when he feels Howard's hands on his clothing. After a second's hesitation, he shakes his head, pushes Howard away. "No, no, wait," he says, his voice panicked, and Howard frowns in confusion. _What's wrong?_ "Wait, Dougie, I can't... I can't." He sighs in defeat. "I'm sorry."

Howard doesn't understand. Why would he? “Gaz?” he asks, as Gary thoroughly avoids his eye, clearly upset and embarrassed. This isn't like him. Howard can feel his hardness falter and wither under the weight of whatever-it-is. “What's the matter?”

“Nothing,” Gary mutters unconvincingly. Howard openly snorts at that, but then shifts backward, trying to figure it out. It's not like he's trying to push Gary into anything. It's just, they were having a good time just now, how could things change so quickly?

“Did I do something wrong?” he asks, just to be sure, and Gary's head finally snaps back up.

“What? No, of course not, you're perfect, you're always perfect, I–” Gary stops, and bites his lip, cringing at his own words. Howard is even more confused. He's glad for the compliment, but he'd hardly describe himself as perfect. “Look at you,” Gary mumbles, staring into his lap again. “Still a bloody Greek god. You couldn't have put on a single fucking ounce in ten years, could you?”

_Oh_.

“Fuck,” Howard says once he processes what Gary's going on about, and he quickly slides his hand underneath Gary's chin, forcing Gaz to look at him again. “Seriously, is that what you're worried about? You think your body's not good enough?” This isn't like him. Yes, Gaz has always muttered jealously about his figure, but it was something they could always laugh about and brush aside, Gary entertained whenever Howard decided to get shy about it. It certainly never got in the way of a shag before.

“Don't say it like that,” Gary says, his brow furrowing in annoyance. “You wouldn't understand.”

“No, I don't,” Howard answers, and Gary keeps frowning. Howard sighs. He doesn't know what he's doing here. Gary was always the confident one, wasn't he? And he knows things have been bad for him this past decade, but somehow, it surfacing like this, here and now, is still a surprise. “C'mon Gaz, it's me,” he says, and he gently takes hold of Gary's hand. “Mate, do you really think I give a shit if you're packing a few extra pounds?”

“No, but that just makes it worse, that makes me think–” and Howard is officially sick of it. All this talking and thinking is not going to solve this problem, and so he simply leans forward again, seals his lips over Gary's to shut him up. Gary hesitates a moment, but quickly gives in, the feel of Howard's tongue pushing into his mouth overwhelming his insecurities. Howard rolls his hips slightly on top of Gary, and despite everything, he can feel Gaz's cock stir again at the contact. See, he does want it. It's all just a matter of convincing him he can have it. When they break apart, Gary is slightly out of breath, and he stares at Howard in bewilderment.

Howard smirks at him. He's trying to be sexy. Seductive, even. “Y'know, some of us _like_ your body.”

Gary only frowns deeper at that. “Don't lie to me.”

“I'm not lying!” Howard says, genuinely offended. He grasps Gary's side and pulls him closer, letting Gaz feel how hard he still is. Gary can hardly accuse _that_ of lying, after all. “I want you, Gaz. I think you're sexy. I want to get you naked and I want to get my come all over you.” Gary shudders at those words, and Howard grins to himself. He moves his hand and rubs Gary through his trousers, getting an erection back. He's getting there, slowly. “Now, are you going to tell me what does and does not turn me on?” he asks. “I thought you were trying to be less bossy this time.”

Gary laughs a little, but Howard can see in his eyes, he's still torn. “Listen, How, I appreciate the gesture,” he says diplomatically, “but you're only saying that because you like _me_. This lot–” he indicates his body, “–is just along for the ride.” Howard wants to groan in frustration. Yes, he does love Gary. He's always loved Gary. But he _also_ wants to fuck him. The two things really aren't mutually exclusive. “Listen, why don't you just give me a couple of weeks, then I can shed a few more pounds and–”

Howard has to kiss him again. He can't listen to any more.

Gary whines in surprise, which really, he should be getting used to this by now. Howard decides to take control. He's not usually that type, but clearly, Gary can't be trusted to make these decisions on his own, and if Howard actually has to live up to the role of The Old One for once, so be it. Gary's mouth opens in front of him, and Howard tilts his head back further, letting the stubble graze his palm. Gary, for all his moaning, kisses back with enthusiasm, sucking at Howard's bottom lip. He might complain about his body, but Howard thinks it's communicating better than the rest of him right now.

He breaks the kiss again, and Gary's eyes are wide with arousal. He pants, and he waits. Howard threads his fingers through blond hair. “Gaz, I want to fuck you,” he says, his voice dark and low. “Now. Not in two weeks. And if you let me, I'm just going to keep at it until you believe me.”

Gary hesitates again, while Howard returns his fingers to that bloody button. This has been a lot of trouble. But it's worth it. For Gaz, it's worth it. “I want to take this top off you,” he adds. “I want to see you naked.” Gary's teeth worry his bottom lip. “Is that alright with you?”

After a moment, Gary lets out a shuddering sigh. “Well, it's your funeral,” he mutters.

Howard will take what he can get.

He kisses Gaz again as he starts to undo buttons, and he can feel Gary trembling with nerves, hands twitching – Howard knows Gaz is thinking of pushing him away again. He takes ones of Gary's wrists with his spare hand, and squeezes tight – he can't really hold the other man down, but it's a reminder, it tells Gary to let him take care of it. Of course, it's not too easy to undo buttons with one hand, and so he has to let go quickly. Even with the two hands he fumbles a little, and part of him is so frustrated he just wants to tear the bloody thing off – but Gary's already so anxious, Howard doesn't think ripping his clothes off would help.

With three buttons open, Howard pushes his hand down Gary's shirt, feeling chest hair against his hand. The flesh is soft, but it's nowhere near as bad as Gary makes out. He's already lost a lot of weight, and Howard's tried his best to be supportive, although he does find it funny that Gaz seems to be on a different diet every three days. He worries sometimes. At what point is it gonna be enough? His thumb grazes across a nipple, and Gary gasps into his mouth. Howard grins as they break apart once more. “That's it,” he says, and he bows his head to kiss Gary's neck instead, licking at the pulse throbbing against his tongue. Gary moans. “You're fucking pretty, Gaz. I'm going to show you.”

Gary can barely suppress a snort, and that annoys Howard enough that he shoves Gary by his chest, making him fall onto his back on the bed. Gary makes a noise of protest, while Howard busies himself with the rest of the buttons. “There we go,” he says, and he pulls the shirt apart. Gary's skin is beautiful. White, broad, and littered with dark blond hair, Howard is mad for it. He always was. Gaz must not have noticed.

There's a loud, shaky inhale, and Howard watches as Gary holds his breath. He quickly realises what Gary's playing at – sucking in his belly, trying to hide it. Howard would laugh at the futility of such a gesture, but at the same time, it's everything he's trying to make Gary not do. He grabs Gary by the hip and squeezes, hard. “Stop that,” he says. Gary stares up at him, starting to look a bit dizzy from the limited oxygen, but not willing to give up this last vestige of control. Howard squeezes harder. “I want to see you. As you are.”

Eventually, Gaz can't hold on any longer, and his ribcage expands as he gasps for more air. _There we go,_ thinks Howard. Before Gary has time to try that trick again, he leans down, kissing down Gary's belly to the trail of hair just above his navel. “That's it, Gaz,” he mutters. “That's what I wanted.” He squeezes the other man's hip again, softer this time. “I want you, just like this.”

Vaguely, he can feel a blush rise to his cheeks. He's not sure it's like him to be so blatant about this – usually, he'd make a joke of it. He's only really obvious about his feelings when he's crying about something (which, to be fair, isn't exactly uncommon). But he thinks Gary needs him right now, to say these things, because nobody else is going to – he's spent all these years hearing the very opposite. Howard swallows the anger that rises at the back of his throat, while Gary pants at the touch against his skin. Howard traces a pattern between his belly button and the waist of his trousers with his tongue, and it makes Gary gasp and squirm underneath him. “Fuck,” he spits, for a moment distracted from his worries by his arousal. His cock is practically tearing his trousers open by now. Howard smirks.

Then, Gary looks down at him again, still in disbelief. “Do you really think you can make me feel better about my body just by fucking me, How?”

Howard stops and thinks it over. It would be nice if it were that simple. But he doubts that it works that way. “Nah, not really,” he admits. He grins. “But I _can_ make you come so many times you won't remember your bloody name, let alone what you weigh. So close enough.”

Gary laughs, and Howard takes advantage of his distraction, pressing more kisses up and down his stomach. Gary groans as Howard sucks at his skin, delving his tongue into the folds – where there are still rolls of fat, and where new muscles are starting to shine through. Gary squirms underneath him, and Howard has a firm hold on his lovehandles, keeping him still. He runs his fingers up and down Gary's sides, making him giggle, while he kisses and sucks and leaves red marks, leaves Gary panting for more. Gaz thrusts up off the bed and Howard has to laugh at the feel of Gary's cock knocking against his collarbone. “Jesus, How,” Gary moans.

“Gimme a sec,” Howard tells him, and he pulls his body back up, giving himself more room to move. Gary stares at him. He still looks uncertain. But he lets himself enjoy the sight of Howard's body, and Howard's all too ready to show it off. Only fair, after all. He reaches for Gary's fly, and while he does he leans back over, takes one of Gaz's nipples between his teeth. Gary groans, long and loud, arching toward him. With his free hand, Howard grasps his hip, tracing circles through the fabric. “That's it,” he mutters into the skin. “No fussing now.”

Gary's zip is obscenely loud when Howard forces it open – but in a good way. Gary shivers against him, and when Howard returns to sucking on his nipple, he curses and grabs his hair, pulling him in closer. Howard grins – as best he can with his mouth full, anyway. His other hand leaves Gary's hip, makes its way up to the other side of his chest, tweaking and teasing the other little bud. Gary moans in appreciation, so Howard decides to go a little further, cupping and squeezing the muscle underneath roughly. Gary groans.

“Well, now I see why you wanted to fuck me,” he says, catching Howard off-guard. “I've got bigger tits than most girls anyway!”

Gary says it like a joke, but Howard's still annoyed, and he bites Gary's nipple with his teeth.

“ _Ow_!”

“Stop that,” Howard tells him, pulling his face back up. “I want to fuck you because you're _fuckable_. Now enough with the complaining. Christ, I thought it was meant to be us lot with the self-esteem issues.”

Gary's jaw drops open, like he's about to say something, but then Howard returns to sucking his nipple and he just squeals embarrassingly instead. It is a bit of a turn around, all this. Historically, all the years they've been friends Gary's always been so brave and confident, and Howard's always been the timid one. Well, Gary's always been confident, except for when he hasn't. Howard knows that everything he's been through isn't going to just go away like that. Still, he's getting there. He's out on stage again, when he always said he never would. It's just this one issue where Gary's still caught in the last decade. And if Howard has to help him out of there, well, so be it.

He pushes his hand inside Gary's now-open trousers and rubs him through his briefs, earning yet more writhing and groaning. He moves further up with his mouth, grazing his teeth over Gary's collarbone, onto his shoulder. He nibbles the skin there and he grinds against Gary's thigh. He's semi-aware his own cock is so hard he'll probably ruin his jeans if he's not careful, but at the same time, it barely seems relevant.

“God, Dougie,” Gary moans, and he bares his neck to let Howard get to work on leaving an obscene hickey there. Maybe they'll have some questions to answer tomorrow night, but hopefully, everyone will be too busy to worry or notice. Gary's hand is still grasping his hair for dear life. When he arches up off the bed, Howard quickly takes advantage to tug that shirt down to his wrists.

Howard can feel the wetness seep through Gary's underwear, onto his hand, and that's as good a sign as any that he should start moving back down again. He's not going to rush it though. He's not giving Gaz any excuse to think he's just forcing himself through this, to get to the bit he really wants.

 Slowly, he traces a path across Gary's chest, flicking at each nipple in turn, gently, with his tongue. When he takes a moment to look, they both look red and swollen, and Howard grins to himself. He lets go of Gary's cock a moment, and Gaz whines at him. “Up,” he says as he reaches to the side, lifting Gary's arse into the air with both hands – that arse Gary has always been so insecure about. Gary doesn't actually get much of a say in the matter, as Howard pulls his pants and trousers down to his knees without hesitation. He's still not as naked as Howard would like him to be, honestly. But, he's as naked as he needs to be. Everything he's been trying to cover up is revealed.

Howard returns to kissing his way down Gary's chest, letting his hand do the work of servicing his cock. “Ah, fuck, fuck,” Gary gasps, thrusting upward as Howard starts to wank him off properly. Howard chuckles. He makes sure to kiss each and every muscle of Gary's abdomen individually – Gaz is always going on about him and his flawless six-pack, but the same muscles are still there, it's just going to take a little work to show them off. Howard tickles the crevice between Gary's left thigh and his pelvis with his tongue, before moving down to nip one thick – solid – thigh with his teeth. Fuck, he'd love to slide his cock between those thighs and come between them. Maybe later. Gary moans, writhing beneath him once more.

“Mate, are you actually trying to make me feel better, or are you just being a sodding tease?”

Gary is panting, writhing, and clearly, any worries about what he might look like are now lost beneath his need. Howard grins. He didn't really think this would all work, but there you go. “I can do both,” he points out, but he quickly decides not to be too mean about it. He grabs Gary's cock firmly and pushes his mouth down over it.

The moan Gaz lets out is wild, obscene, and Howard almost chokes as his throat bears the brunt of Gary keening into the wet heat. Right, he remembers, it's been a few years since he's done this, and he ought to be careful. Still, he's sure he can cope. Slowly, he strokes Gary up and down, up and down, rolling the balls in his palm before returning to the rhythm. He keeps only the first few inches in his mouth, bobbing his head as much as he dares. Gary whines and trembles, and Howard can already taste precome on his tongue. This isn't going to take too long. The thought is surprisingly disappointing.

He tightens his lips around Gary's cock, lets it slip a little deeper in. Gary moans, his hands finding Howard's hair and pulling, hard. Howard laughs to himself, remembering the way Gaz used to moan whenever he found himself tugging on his old dreads – that they were greasy, that the smelled horrible – and that only makes Gary moan louder, teetering on the edge. “Fuck, fuck, Doug, fuck,” he pants, and Howard lets that spur him on, delving his tongue into the slit of Gaz's come, the taste of him raw and overpowering. With his other hand, he holds Gary's thigh tight, brings him in closer.

“Shit, How, I'm going – _god_ –”

Howard's not sure he needs the warning, but he's grateful anyway. Gaz might not have remembered once, but he really is trying his best. He hums and then he just _sucks_ , as hard and as deep and as fast as he can manage, until the orgasm is torn from Gary's body with a deep, wretched sob. _That's it,_ thinks Howard, and he swallows the come in his mouth instantaneously. He wrinkles his nose a bit at the taste, but he's proving a point here, after all.

He keeps bobbing his head until he's sure every drop his been wrung out; until Gary groans and pushes him away, his cock softening. When Howard finally pulls off, there's a line of saliva between his bottom lip and the head of Gary's cock, and he takes a moment to look up and take in the view before remembering to wipe it away. Gary just lies there, his body flushed from head to toe, gasping for breath. His legs are spread wide and he's still shaking, just a little bit. He looks wrecked, completely fuck-drunk. Howard groans at the sight of him, moves one hand to squeeze his own prick again, now wet, aching, desperate. Still, priorities. “You right, Gaz?”

Gaz is barely capable of registering the words, really, but eventually he does look down, manages to snap his jaw shut again. “Yeah.” And, as he starts to recover from his orgasm, Howard can see the anxiety start to settle in his face again. Perhaps subconsciously, he wriggles a bit further up the bed, his body curling in on itself. He's trying to hide again. “Um – thanks, I guess.”

Howard quickly grabs his hips and pins him to the bed, not letting him get away. “Thanks for what?” he asks, and he grins, shark-like. “What, you thought I'd let you go that easy?” Gary's mouth opens once more, but his legs splay wider as Howard guides them apart. “I told ya, I'm going to make you come until you're not worrying about your fucking weight anymore.” He scratches up Gary's inner thigh with his nails. “And I don't think you've quite stopped yet, have you?”

Before Gary can answer, Howard darts his head back down and licks up the length of Gary's now-soft cock, taking one of Gary's balls into his mouth and rolling it between his lips. Gary shrieks embarrassingly at that, his hand thumping against the mattress. Right, Gaz is far too sensitive for him to keep that up. At their age, it'll take some time to get him hard again. Okay.

Howard picks a different approach. He does have to take a moment to pull Gary's trousers all the way off, throwing them onto floor. Then he grabs him again, using both hands to push Gary's legs further up into the air. Gary groans as Howard's tongue trails down lower, behind his sack and across the sensitive skin bridging the way to his hole. "Fuck, How, what are you-?" But he knows. He lets out a muffled cry when Howard pushes a tongue against his tight rim, hitting the bed again in pleasure. He loves this, their Gaz. He always has. He's prone to moaning about how unhygienic it is after, but in the moment, he always loves it.

While he circles the entrance with his lips and tongue, Howard's fingers trace patterns along the inside of Gary's thighs, hoping to communicate the things his mouth is currently too busy to say - and that he wouldn't be much good at saying aloud even if he could. Things like _you're beautiful_ and _I love you_ and _if I like your bum enough to stick my fucking tongue up there, you should go a bit easier on the poor thing._

Gary moans as Howard really does breach him with his tongue, reaching down to grasp his hair and pull him closer. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," he gasps, and he doesn't sound like he's thinking about his weight. He doesn't sound like he's thinking about much. The only concern Gaz has about his body right now is how good it feels, which is how it ought to be.

Howard grins as he plunges his tongue in deeper, curling it to hit Gary's most sensitive spots. He fucks Gaz on his tongue shamelessly, and relishes the needy moans that bounce off the walls, the hands pulling his hair insistently. It's for the best that Gaz likes having his arse eaten out so much, really, because the fact of the matter is - Howard likes doing it almost as much. His tongue was always his favourite part of his body, after all.

Gary was surprised when Howard first mentioned that, clearly too impressed with the washboard abs to notice anything else. Grass is greener on the other side, he supposes. Howard never was too keen on being 'the body of the band'. He never liked being stripped down to his g-string and shown off for all the world, night after night. Occasionally, it wouldn't be so bad, but the attention always made him shy – of course – and after awhile, it was hard not to feel at bit objectified.

His stupidly large tongue though, he's always loved showing that off. He loves showing what he can do with it.

Gary's cock twitches back to life above him, and Howard's quick to reach up and stroke it again, making Gary writhe and wrap his legs around Howard's neck. Howard's only a little bit worried about maybe being strangled, and it might well be worth it, because the noises Gaz makes are so filthy they've got Howard grinding into the sheets in desperation. He might well come like this, with his tongue up Gary's arse, and he's sure Gaz would never let him forget it but at the same time, it would be a point to make if they ever find themselves arguing over this again.

Howard wishes he could see more from his position. He wishes he could see Gary's face, light with pleasure. He wishes he could see Gary's cock, red and wet and hard. He wishes he could see Gary's body, twisting, shuddering and shaking. He wishes he could see everything.

There's wetness dripping onto his hand, and Gaz could easily come again without warning. Howard plans to let him, really he does, but he wants to do some things first. He extracts his tongue from Gary's arse, earning a deeply disappointed whine, and then holds him tight, flips him onto his front.

“Ah!” Gary cries out as his knees land on the mattress, and Howard wonders if he should have been more careful there. They're not so young anymore, and it wouldn't do for any of them to pull a muscle. Still, Gary doesn't complain. He lets Howard pull him up onto his knees, all the while chuckling. “You know, for someone who's whole plan was to make me feel better, you're not a little rough, aren't ya?”

Howard laughs at that in turn, but he runs his hands up and down Gary's back soothingly. “I wouldn't say I was rough,” he says. He tugs the remains of the shirt off Gary's elbows, and it joins the rest of his clothes on the floor. He leans down and presses soft kisses along Gary's shoulder blades, earning yet more moans. “Think of it this way–” he grabs Gary's hips with both hands, and squeezes hard, “–you're so bloody fuckable, I can't keep my hands off you.”

With a groan and a none-too-subtle thrust of his arse back toward Howard's crotch, Gaz is clearly putty in his hands, and Howard grins against the back of his neck. He moves his hands to massage up and down Gary's thighs, not yet touching his cock again, while he kisses up and down Gary's back. He's not kissed any of this yet. That's gotta be checked off the list.

Gary moans as Howard runs a wet tongue down his spine, shivering at the cool air hitting his wet skin. Just as he reaches the crease of his arse, though, Howard has to pull his head back up, take a moment to appreciate it: those full, fleshy cheeks, the red wet hole bared open for him, the light dust of blond-brown hair across the white skin. “I can't believe you don't like your arse, mate,” he says, and he gives Gaz a spank – only gently, he's not trying to hurt him at all. But he can't resist the urge to see it jiggle for him. “Best fucking arse I ever saw. So–” _big_ , he wants to say, but he's pretty sure Gaz would take that badly, “–perfect for fucking, and rimming, and spanking, and fucking everything. God, the things I could do with your arse, mate.”

Another loud groan, and Gary shamelessly thrusts his hips up in the air, his natural prudishness overcome by the urge to have Howard get back to what he was doing before. Still, he can't help but snort at the words. “No counting for taste, I s'pose.”

Howard frowns, and spanks him again, harder this time. “ _Stop that_ ,” he says, and Gary gasps at the blow. “If you won't believe I actually want to fuck you, why should I bloody bother?”

He doesn't give Gary a chance to answer though. It's really not like him to tease. He returns his mouth to Gary's hole and kisses it, firmly, messily, to choked-off groans and fingers tightening in the sheets. One hand he snakes between Gary's legs, finding his cock again, stroking him ruthlessly. The other he keeps on Gary's left cheek, holding him open, and caressing the skin. _I want more_ _,_ he says silently.

Gary clearly agrees with him there, keening beneath his mouth, and when Howard pushes his tongue back inside Gaz all but begs him to stick it in deeper. "Oh, oh fucking god, oh," Gary moans shamelessly. Howard feels a shaking hand reach for him, tug his hair a second, before Gaz has to return it to the mattress to keep his balance. "Fuck, _please_ How." Howard's not quite sure what Gaz is actually begging him for there, but he tightens his fist obligingly around Gary's cock anyway. Whatever makes Gaz feel good.

He thrusts his tongue as deep in Gary's tight hole as it'll go, fucking him with it recklessly, lapping up the strange musky taste. Gary trembles and rocks back against his mouth, barely managing a strangled cry before he comes, hard, his seed spilling fucking everywhere - on Howard's hand, on the sheets underneath him, on his own body.

Howard grins. He keeps sucking at that hole as he works Gary through it, the resulting moans sounding even more desperate somehow. He could well just keep going, until he makes Gaz come a second time on his tongue - except he's afraid he might pull a jaw muscle. Somebody's gotta do _Never Forget_ tomorrow night after all.

"Christ, Dougie, enough," Gary gasps, squirming, and Howard finally surfaces for air. His head spins, and he's panting as loud as Gary is. Shit. He didn't realise just how little oxygen he was getting there.

He also didn't realise, he's so hard his cock might actually be about to drop off.

Howard groans, hurriedly rubbing himself through his jeans to relieve the pressure. Fuck, why is he still wearing those? He almost the tears the damn things as he rips them off his legs, letting him stroke his cock properly. Gaz is still recovering underneath him, arse popped lewdly in the air, and it is very, very tempting for Howard just to wank himself off until he comes all over that full, perfect rear. He did promise to come all over Gaz's body.

Then again, he _also_ promised to make Gaz come enough times he'd forget his own name. Twice might not cut it there.

Groaning, he forces himself to let go of his cock, even though his hands are literally shaking with need. As gently as he can, he guides Gary over onto his back again, takes a moment to check him out. Fuck, he looks amazing. His face is flushed pink. His lips are red and swollen from biting them. His thighs are covered with red marks, quickly turning into finger-shaped bruises. He looks not just fuckable, but _fucked_.

But the bit Howard likes best are the thin trails of come, all over his belly. Howard circles his finger through the mess, spreading it over Gary's skin, and Gary moans and shudders underneath him.

“You know, this is hardly fair,” Gaz points out, still out of breath, and Howard tilts his head to the side, confused. “You've been all over my body, but you've not let me touch yours at all. Bit selfish of ya.”

Howard has to laugh at that, _sure, whatever you say mate,_ but before he gets the chance to reply Gary is folding both hands through his hair, pulling him down for a kiss. Howard groans and goes with it. It's nice he doesn't have to worry about whether or not to dare sticking his tongue in Gary's mouth after he's just stuck it up his arse.

Gaz pulls him in closer and Howard groans louder as his cock slides along Gary's thigh, and he doesn't mean to grind himself against the skin so desperately, but really it's a bit out of his hands at this point. Gaz doesn't seem to mind though, spreading his legs again to let Howard further in, and Howard's quick to grab the other thigh with his hand, guiding Gary until he's got a leg wrapped around his waist, and already he can feel Gaz's cock starting to twitch back to life.

Fuck. Alright, whatever other complaints Gary might have about his body – you can't fault him for stamina.

Howard moans as he comes up for air, taking a moment to look at Gaz's flushed face. Gary isn't meeting his eye though; instead, he's staring down at Howard's torso, drinking in the sight shamelessly. The appreciations all there, but not a hint of the envy. “Fuck, Dougie,” he whispers, and Howard feels a hand run down his abdonmem impossibly gently, like he barely believes it's real. “I love your body so much.”

“Right back at you,” Howard says, and he _knows_ Gary isn't going to believe him, but he's going to keep saying it anyway. He groans as Gary's hand drifts back up and finds the piercing he still has after all these years, tugs a few times. Yeah, Gaz always liked that. Much more than the dreads.

While Gary's touching him, Howard touches right back, squeezing Gary's arse while rocking against his thigh. “I want you,” he mutters, and he leans down to litter pecks across Gaz's shoulders. “I don't even care if you believe me. _I want you_.”

Gary moans, and Howard seals over his lips with his own before he gets the chance to argue. Gary laps up the attention, while he runs his fingers back down Howard's torso, eventually wrapping one around Howard's aching cock – he pulls away from Gary's mouth with an obscene moan, thrusting into his palm. “Fuck, yes,” he pants.

Gaz laughs a little, quickening his pace. “You know, you should appreciate my hands,” he says, “they're the one bit of my body I've always liked.”

Howard laughs back at him, while he winds the fingers of their free hands together and squeezes. He doesn't say anything. He doesn't need to.

He keeps kissing Gary's chest while Gary wanks him off, sucking at his nipples enough to earn soft, broken little moans, and before long Howard can feel him properly hard again, grinding into Howard's hip. Well, that's just a bloody waste. “C'mon,” he mutters, and he doesn't like letting Gaz's hand go but he does it anyway, so he can reach for the one wrapped around his cock, guiding it back open so Gary can push his own cock in alongside, and _yes, yes, fuck_. Howard's not sure if he says that out loud. It feels _right_ like that, hot and wet and tight and they're pressed so close together, you can hardly tell where one ends and the other begins. Well, that might appease Gaz for a bit.

Howard's eyes almost slide shut in bliss, but he forces himself to keep them open. He wants to see everything. He wants Gary to see him see everything. And funnily enough, he does – Gary's eyes are wide open too, while his mouth gasps and trembles as his strokes become rough and erratic. They're just staring at each other, trying to communicate things they can't put words to.

Gaz was right, Howard does love _him_ most of all, the body is just a part of that. He's always loved Gaz, even when it was not a very popular opinion. He'd love Gaz if he was as big as he was in 2001 and he'd love Gaz if he ever got down to a weight he's happy with, just the same.

But the Gaz he loves best is always the one he's with _now_ , the one whose body makes him moan, makes him gasp, makes him _come_. He's the practical type, Howard.

Howard kisses him again, letting Gaz feel all that in the way he touches him. Gary is trembling again, keening toward his body. Howard squeezes his arse and pulls him closer. His head is starting to spin. He moans between Gary's lips as he starts counting the strokes pushing him to the edge, _one, two, three_ and then he bites down hard as the orgasm hits him like a truck, makes him curse and whimper as his come splatters all over Gary's belly, claiming as it own. Gary doesn't take much more; he whines before Howard feels him shudder, coming for the third time, softer now, but enough to get his come all over both their hands, mingling with Howard's, leaving them both wet and sticky and fucking perfect.

Perfect. Yes, that's the word. Howard's body is perfect. Gary's body is perfect. The show tonight was perfect. Everything's so fucking _perfect_ , and Howard's gonna keep saying that until someone believes him.

Gary groans as he starts to come down, his body sinking back into the mattress. Their mouths break apart with a pop, and Howard takes a moment to get his breath back, resting his brow against Gary's own. “Feeling any better now?” he asks.

“...A little,” Gary admits, but he can't keep from smiling. “I gotta ask though: when did you get so bloody bossy?”

Howard pauses. Er, that's a good question. He didn't really think of it in the moment, he was just doing what seemed necessary. He shrugs. “I mean, I'm not usually,” he points out. “But we did all agree we'd have to stand up to you if you ever started being a twat toward any members of the band again, so.”

Gary frowns, offended. “I'm sorry, how was I being a twat toward anyone in the band?”

“Because _you're_ in the band, Gaz,” Howard says. If he was less exhausted, he'd clip him round the ear. “What, you think I'd let you get away with it if you started saying any of the rest of us were to fat to fuck? No? So why would I let you say that about yourself?”

Gary opens his mouth, as if he's about to argue something, but then he just simply says “...oh.” His eyes drift back down over his own body, and Howard can see the insecurities surface in his face. He sighs.

“You still don't like your body very much, do ya?”

Gary meets his eye again, smiles apologetically. “'Fraid not, How,” he says.

Howard doesn't have it in him to hold that against him. “Well, that's alright,” he says, kissing Gary's forehead before settling down on his chest for a proper cuddle. “I'll just have to like it enough for the both of us.”

 


End file.
